


Open Cages

by MommaUrsa



Category: Batman (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Daddy Issues, M/M, Past Drug Addiction, Past Drug Use
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-04
Updated: 2014-04-04
Packaged: 2018-01-18 05:01:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1416040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MommaUrsa/pseuds/MommaUrsa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jason's been comfortably settled in his auto shop for a few years now, and he finally decides to rent the spare room above it out. The last thing he expects is for a young artist to be the one to rent the room. Jason doesn't expect the new addition to make such an impact on his already changed life, but he's not exactly complaining.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Open Cages

                Jason wasn’t sure why he didn’t just put the ad out into the paper. The empty space above his body shop badly needed someone to take over and fill it with something. It was dusty, cold, and quite frankly a bit unsettling that it was the only room in the entire building that had nothing going on in it. He had intended to let someone rent it since the day he purchased the damn building five years ago – and damn, does time fly by fast – but he just never got around to it.

                At least, not until now.

                He wiped oil off his face with a clean rag, but only succeeded in spreading it around his sunburnt face. He sniffed and quickly produced a cigarette from the pocket of his coveralls. He let the stick dangle between his chapped lips, and then lit it as he leaned back against the hood of a restored barracuda. Smoke drifted up, joining the sticky, hot summer air. He watched as children ran down the street, laughing carelessly despite the neighborhood being far from the best. He watched them closely, eying a few crooks crossing the street to make sure the two kids made it to their apartment without trouble.

                He took a long drag, finally closing his eyes when he heard the door slam across the street. He exhaled through his nose. His eyes slowly opened, showing him the sight of a younger man standing in front of him.

                “You don’t have numbers hanging outside of your building,” the stranger grumbled, crumpling a piece of paper and shoving it into his pocket.

                Jason shoved off the barracuda. He looked the kid over. He was as tall as Jason, but slimmer. He wore a jacket with the hood pulled up and a pair of jeans. How the boy was able to stand the heat dressed like that, Jason had no fucking idea. The kid didn’t look like the son of the billionaire playboy that he had envisioned.

                “Damian, right? Dickie told me all about you,” Jason greeted as he held a hand out.

                Damian stared at the grease-stained hand. He raised a single brow before turning his nose up at it. “Dick insisted your spare room would suit my needs perfectly. I am here to see if he is correct, not make small talk.”

                Jason scowled before dropping his hand. He rolled his eyes, and then stepped around the boy. “It’s upstairs,” he explained, cigarette still dangling from his lips.

                “You seriously smoke _inside_?” The tone was incredulous, which only had Jason rolling his eyes again.  He made a show of plucking his cigarette out and resting it on an ashtray next to the front door.

                Jason led Damian around to a set of stairs on the side of the building. He climbed them, not caring to turn and see what the kid thought of the place. He would rather just turn the brat around, what with the attitude and all, but he had promised Dick he would give the man’s “little brother” a tour of the room.

                He produced a pair of keys from his back pocket as he reached the platform at the top of the stairs. He slid it into the lock, turned it, and then shoved the door open. He stepped back against the railing, eyes landing on Damian. “After you.”

                Damian slipped past Jason, careful to not even brush the older man. Jason watched the boy step into the dusty room, nose wrinkling as he turned to see the footprints left behind. “Have you ever heard of cleaning?” He rolled his eyes, and then began to circle the room.

                Jason remained near the open door. “The AC up here is broken, but I can get that fixed if you decide you want it,” he explained, deciding to ignore the jab.

                Damian didn’t acknowledge the statement. Instead, he was messing with the blinds, trying to pull them open. “Is everything broken in here?”

                “Try pulling the string to the right,” Jason instructed.

                Damian tugged to the right, watching as the blinds lifted, allowing sunlight to shine straight through the window, filling the room completely. Jason could see the dust floating in the air. The walls, which were a disgusting shade of green under fluorescents, actually looked digestible in the natural light.

                Damian turned. He crossed his arms over his chest and looked around the room again. “How much is rent?”

                “One-fifty plus utilities,” Jason replied. “It has a full bath over there, and a closet.” He pointed to the two closed doors on the left side of the room.

                Damian stalked over to the closet. He pulled the door open and inspected the small space. “Will I hear you working below?”

                Jason shrugged. “Sometimes, but I maintain normal working hours when I’m using loud shit.” He reached for his back pocket and pulled out cloth. He began wiping his hands on it out of habit. “If you put some music on, you can ignore it, and I don’t work weekends.”

                “Tt.” Damian slowly shut the door. “Will it be clean before I move in?”

                Jason’s brow rose. “You sayin’ you want this place?”

                Damian shoved his hands into his pockets. “Get it clean. I’m moving in next week.”

\---

                Jason spent a Saturday cleaning the empty space. He had gotten on his hands and knees to scrub the linoleum flooring. He spent an hour wiping the walls down from top to bottom, making sure not a single speck of dust had remained in the room, and he even got the AC fixed before Dick and Damian showed up the following Monday with Damian’s things.

                Dick was grinning like an idiot when he arrived in front of Red Hood Auto. He sat a bag down next to the entrance to the garage. “Hey, Jaybird,” he greeted. “Is the door unlocked?”

                Jason stared at the man from underneath a blue BMW. He rolled out from underneath, and then slowly got up. He wiped his hands on his dirty coveralls. “I’ve got the keys right here,” he finally replied. He stuck a dirty hand into his pocket and produced a key ring. He tossed the keys over. “That’s for the brat to keep.”

                Dick caught the key and inspected it. He curled his fingers around it, grin growing even wider. “Thank you so much, Jason.”

                “Yeah, yeah,” Jason shrugged. “Want me to close up early and help?”

                Dick shook his head. He bent over to pick up the bag. “Nah, we’ve got it. Thanks, though.”

                “Did you get the keys?” Damian walked up to the two. He regarded Jason for a moment. His eyes raked over the man, no doubt judging his perpetually oil-stained state. Jason rolled his eyes at the teen before plopping back down and disappearing underneath the car.

                “I’ve got them right here, little D,” he heard Dick reply. There was a shuffling of shoes, a few quiet insults, and then the two were gone.

                The day passed quickly. Jason could hear Dick the entire time, moving delicate items up to the rented out room. He heard one thing break, and then complete silence. Jason was almost afraid of what the little brat had done to Dick, but he was quickly relieved to hear the older man’s laughter about twenty minutes later.

                The two weren’t done moving until about seven, which was fine with Jason. It gave him time to clean up and grab some food before going up to the room to check on the two.

                He was balancing three pizzas on a cooler when he showed up at the door. He rapped on it politely, and then poked his head in. “You two hungry?”

                Dick looked over at him from a couch that had been set up against one of the walls. He grinned. “I have to head out, but I’m sure Damian is,” he replied. Jason looked over at the younger man, who was busy setting an easel up next to the open window.

                Damian cursed softly, but finally got the legs to lock into place. He turned to look over at Jason, eyes automatically locking onto the pizzas. He finally pried his eyes away long enough to look up at Jason’s face. He pursed his lips, but nodded. “Come in.”

                Dick hopped up as Damian cleared the coffee table of art supplies, making room for the pizzas. “I should head out,” Dick told the two. “You okay getting home on your own, Damian?”

                Damian rolled his eyes. “Father’s still at work. I’ll get a ride from him,” he assured his older brother.

                “Don’t be a stranger, Dickie,” Jason told the man as he pulled his shoes on.

                Dick grinned. “I wouldn’t _dream_ of it,” he laughed. “See you both later.” He saluted them, and then ducked out, closing the door behind him.

                Jason set the cooler down next to the couch. He sat the pizzas on the coffee table. “I got cheese, and there’s both beer and soda in the cooler,” he explained as he opened the top box. He pulled out a slice, ignoring the fact that Damian was observing him like some sort of animal.

                “You clean up well,” the younger man finally spoke up.

                Jason looked up to see Damian stepping closer. He leaned down to snatch up a slice of pizza, and then began eating. He turned, letting his eyes rest on the window.

                “Did you think I just lived in my own filth?” Jason rolled his eyes. He leaned back on the sofa as he began looking around the room. “So…you’re an artist.”

                “ _No_ ,” Damian responded. “Did Dick not tell you what this room was going to be used for?”

                Jason shrugged. “I don’t make it a habit to know people’s business if they don’t want to share. Dickie just said you needed a place and were willing to pay.”

                Damian reached for a second slice of pizza. He seemed to finally deem it safe to sit on the couch as far away from Jason. The younger man curled on the cushion, eyes focusing on Jason. He looked the man over again, regarding him with the same scrutiny as before.

                “I will be using it as a studio,” Damian explained with a serious expression. “Why anyone would want to _live_ in this dump is beyond me.”

                Jason scowled. “Some people would appreciate just having a roof over their head,” he snapped. He exhaled sharply, and then reached into the cooler to pull a bear out. “Want one, kid?”

                Damian eyed the glass bottle in Jason’s hand. He hesitantly nodded, holding his hand out. Jason tossed it. He smirked when Damian fumbled with it, nearly dropping the bottle on the linoleum.

                Jason screwed the top off, and then took a swig. “Whatever, this place needed to get some use,” he sighed, relaxing against the sofa.

                He looked over to watch as Damian struggled to screw the top off. Jason rolled his eyes and reached over to snatch the beer up. He quickly screwed the cap off, and then handed it back.

                “Tt,” Damian spat, and then cradled the beer in his hands. He took a sip. “I had it.”

                “Sure you did.” Jason rolled his eyes, which only got him a sharp nudge from Damian’s foot. His brow shot up as he stared at the kid. “ _Really_?”

                Damian glared at him, and then finished his pizza off. Over the course of twenty silent minutes, the two of them polished off two and a half pizzas and three beers. Damian’s phone went off. When he realized it was Damian’s dad, Jason excused himself. He picked up the cooler and made his way back down to his part of the building, leaving Damian alone to deal with the garbage.

\---

                _…one of Gotham’s hottest summers yet!_

                “Shit,” Jason cursed, banging his fist against the air conditioner. He lifted his head so he could glare at the radio sitting beside him. “This is your fault. If it was a normal summer, this shit wouldn’t happen.”

                “Very unlikely,” Damian scoffed from behind Jason.

                Jason’s brow rose as he turned to look up at Damian. His hair was a mess and had flecks of paint matching the paint staining his hands, as if he had been running his fingers through his hair as he worked. He had paint smudged on his cheek, and his clothes had splatters everywhere. Some of the spots were shining, obviously fresh from whatever the boy had been working on before coming down to check on Jason’s progress.

                The younger man rolled his eyes and held out a glass of tea. “Move over. I’ll handle it.”

                “Do you even know what this is?”

                Damian shoved the cold glass into Jason’s hands, and then shoved the man over. “Tt,” he spat, shoving his hands into the box.

                Damian Wayne, Bruce Wayne’s artistic son, had been renting the spare room above his garage for a few weeks now. The kid had a smart mouth and a perpetual glare, but Jason had to admit, he knew his shit, and his art was pretty damn good. He had only seen a few of the teen’s pieces, and only if they were sitting out when he went up to make sure the room was still in working order. The kid might have been a bit of an asshole (okay, maybe a big asshole), but he was still paying money for the damn room, and Jason sure as hell wasn’t about to let him rent a room without working AC.

                “If I had known you couldn’t fix it, I would have done it myself,” Damian snorted as he put the cover back onto the AC unit. He wiped his hands off on his jeans and smirked as the unit began whirring. He crossed his arms, turning his head to smirk smugly at Jason.

                Jason’s brow rose and he took a sip of his iced tea. It tasted like shit, but the kid could draw, and apparently fix AC units. Jason wasn’t about to judge his inability to make a good pitcher of sweet tea.

                “I can fix any car you throw at me, but a fucking kid fixes the damn unit,” Jason snorted. “How’d you know how to do that?”

                Damian shrugged as he turned. “The last place I rented from had a unit that constantly broke down. I was not going to pay every time it broke, and I was not going to replace it when it was not mine to replace.”

                Jason sipped the syrupy tea before reaching for his toolbox. “I guess I’m done here.”

                Damian stared at Jason, eyes narrowing. “It’s Saturday,” he began. Jason’s brow rose, expression sobering. “Since you aren’t working, would you like to come up for a drink?”

                Jason snorted. “Are you offering me more tea? I hate to break it to you kid, but yours sucks.”

                He watched as the kid’s brows furrowed, taking offense from the criticism. “Tt. I bought some beer, you asshole. You seem to have a taste for it.”

                Jason chuckled as he nodded. “Yeah, I’ll come up and have a beer with you. Let me put my shit away.”

                After putting the toolbox back in his garage and locking up, Jason made his way up to Damian’s studio. He lingered outside the door, trying to decide whether or not to knock. He ran a hand through his hair, pushing his bangs out of his face as he finally reached for the doorknob. His fingers were barely on it when the door swung open and Damian stared at him.

                The younger man rolled his eyes, and then stepped back into the room. Jason followed, shutting the door behind him. He glanced around the room, smiling when he saw even more paintings resting against the walls, each in different stages of being finished. The blinds were open, allowing the sun to shine through it, illuminating the entire room. The colors on the paintings, finished or not, seemed to burst from the canvases.

                “You’ve been busy,” Jason complimented, eyes finally landing on Damian. The younger man had sat down on the couch (which was the only thing in the room not stained by paint) and reached for a beer from his cooler. He pulled a bottle out and held it out to Jason.

                “I have a deadline coming up,” Damian explained as the man took the beer from him. He reached back into the cooler, shifting through ice until his fingers gripped the neck of a bottle.

                Jason flopped on the couch, letting his limbs stretch out. He screwed the cap off his beer and took a swig. “A deadline for what?”

                Damian looked down at the glass bottle in his hands. He rolled it slowly. “A gallery. This is _my_ space and my paintings pay for it.” He looked up to meet Jason’s eyes. “The deadline is in a few weeks.”

                Jason whistled as he looked over at the paintings again. He snorted, eyes drawn to the plastic beneath each one. Paint coated each piece of clear plastic. “You’re a messy kid,” he laughed.

                Damian kicked Jason’s thigh. “Tt,” he spat. “At least it’s not _grease_.” His nose wrinkled, which only had Jason laughing again.

                “There ain’t nothing wrong with being messy,” Jason continued to laugh. “Even if it’s _grease_.”

                Damian tried to stifle a laugh, but he couldn’t help but chuckle softly. Jason smiled, content to see the kid relax for one. He shifted on the couch, moving closer so he could hold his beer out. “Good luck on the gallery, kid.”

                Damian stared at the offered beer. He hesitantly clinked the butt of his bottle against Jason’s. “Would you be interested in attending?” He averted his gaze, directing it towards the painting currently occupying the easel.

                As the younger man turned his head, Jason was greeted with a smudge of yellow on the boy’s cheek. He sat his beer down on the coffee table before reaching out to wipe it away with his thumb. “Sure, kid. I’m interested,” he responded, wiping his thumb off on his jeans.

                He didn’t miss the way Damian’s cheeks heated up as he turned his head to meet Jason’s gaze. There was a moment of complete silence before Damian leaned in. He brushed their lips together lightly in a cautious manner. His lips were surprisingly soft, and they felt nice against Jason’s. The older man chased after Damian when he slowly pulled away, claiming the boy’s lips for his own. They remained like that for a short moment, before both were pulling away.

                Damian cleared his throat. “I- I would like it if you came,” he murmured. “Dick will be there. He’s bringing his girlfriend, Kory-“

                “Do you make it a habit to ask your landlord out to your galleries?” Jason smirked as he relaxed against the couch again.

                Damian’s nose wrinkled. “Tt. Of course not, idiot.” He shot Jason a glare.

\---

                Jason didn’t see Damian much until the evening of the gallery. He had no idea how to dress for a gallery, other than that he knew that jeans and a stained shirt would not cut it. He had to keep the jeans, but he did manage to find a nicer shirt. He rolled the sleeves up and tucked his wallet away in his pants before he heard a knock on his door.

                He ran his fingers through his clean hair as he dashed towards it. He yanked it open, smirking at Damian when the young man began looking him over. He could see the kid judging his appearance, but he didn’t really care. It was the nicest he had, and Damian would have to deal with it.

                “Acceptable,” Damian commented, to Jason’s surprise. “For a plebeian.” The teen returned the smirk, and Jason found himself scowling.

                “I should raise your rent,” Jason teased as he stepped out of his house. He locked and shut the door behind him. He finally looked the kid over, smiling at the boy’s cleaned up appearance.

                He was wearing the most colors Jason had ever seen on the kid. His black jeans had been swapped out for a pair of tight, faded blue ones. An untucked, white button-up poked out from behind a red v-neck sweater. He had a black and gray jacket, with what appeared to be elbow patches, over it.

                 “You look nice, kid,” Jason complimented. He pulled his keys from his pocket. “Ready to go?”

                Damian nodded slowly. He pursed his lips, and Jason couldn’t help but think back to how damn soft they were. He shook the thought from his head, and then nudged the younger man with his shoulder. “We’ll take the charger.”

                “Thank you for attending with me,” Damian grumbled as he shoved his hands into his pockets.

                Jason chuckled, leading Damian to the garage. “It’s no problem, kid.” He opened the garage door before unlocking the cherry red charger. He opened the driver’s door and ducked in.

                The ride was a silent one. He caught Damian fidgeting with the hem of his button up out of the corner of his eye. He never thought of Damian as being the type to get nervous before a gallery. Jason wasn’t the best judge of art, but he knew talent when he saw it. The kid had something. His style was unique, and that was really what made it good. He figured some snobby assholes probably disapproved of it, but if he could appreciate it, he was sure Gotham’s art crowd would.

                He parked at the venue. He had a few people gawking at his car, which only stroked his ego. He had put a lot of work into the damn thing since he started his shop. It was his piece of art, and he liked it to be appreciated.

                He waited for Damian to slip out of the car before locking it. He pocketed his keys, and then held an arm out to the younger man. Damian walked over to Jason and shoved the arm down. “Go inside,” he snorted, nudging Jason forward.

                Jason chuckled as he led Damian into the gallery. He was immediately greeted by brick walls and a marble floor. Pipes were visible in the ceiling, curling around the room and slipping out of view by connecting to the ceiling. Lights lined the brick walls, illuminating the framed pieces.

                The chatter of people filled his ears and the entire place smelled like a mix of sawdust and coffee. People were dressed similar to Damian, but with a variety of colors. They all had a look to them, and Jason automatically felt like an outsider stepping into a world he felt he was too foreign to.

                He grinned at Damian. “So, where did they hang yours?”

                Damian shoved his hands into his pockets again. “This way,” he murmured. He pursed his lips and led Jason further in the gallery.

They passed by groups of people discussing pieces. Jason caught snippets of conversations, which only had his brows furrowing. He shot a few glares at people making snarky remarks about the pieces not being “real art,” but he knew the looks went unnoticed.

                They arrived at one of the back corners. A few people were already there, though Jason recognized two of them. Dick was standing in front of one of the paintings, his arm wrapped around a taller redhead. He could hear the woman’s soft, melodic laughter.

                Damian pulled his hands out of his pockets once Dick turned around. He grinned at the two and Kory quickly closed the distance between herself and Damian. Her heels clacked against the marble floor. She leaned over to kiss both of Damian’s cheeks in greeting. “Hello, little one,” she chirped as she straightened out. She turned her warm smile towards Jason. “What a surprise to see you here, Jason.”

                “What’s that supposed to mean?” Jason couldn’t help but chuckle as he crossed his arms. “I like art just as much as the next guy.”

                Damian rolled his eyes at them. “He wanted to see what his space allowed me to create,” he explained to the redhead.

                Kory nodded, and then returned to Dick’s side. She slipped her hand into his back pocket as she pressed herself against his body. She had to be a head taller than the man without the heels, and that didn’t seem to bother either of them.

                “This looks great, little D,” Dick complimented. He glanced back at the works. “Very you.”

                Damian’s nose wrinkled. “Has anyone placed any bids?”

                Dick nodded and Damian went to look and see how much his paintings might go for. Jason decided to turn and look at the four paintings hanging from the brick wall. Each one was different, showing different aspects of Damian’s talent, but he still managed to bring them all together. A robin was incorporated into each one, decorating some aspect of the painting. Whether it was a logo on an article of clothing, a tattoo painted onto skin, or a real bird blending in with the landscape, he had made sure to include the creature.

                “That like your brand, Damian?” Jason’s brow rose as he looked over at Damian. The kid looked distracted for a moment, brows furrowing as he stared at a small piece of paper. He turned and looked up at Jason, brow shooting up. “I asked if that’s your logo.”

                “The bird?” Damian looked at one of the paintings. “I suppose it is,” he responded with a shrug.

                “It’s weird,” Dick interjected as he wrapped his arms around Damian’s neck and pulled the kid into a hug that looked more like a chokehold. “He’s had a strange obsession with bats since he was a baby, but he chooses a damn robin as his logo.” The man chuckled. “He puts it in everything.”

                Damian gently elbowed the man, shoving him away. “Shut up, Dick.”

                Dick chuckled as he stepped back. His expression suddenly sobered. “Oh, yeah, Bruce said he was going to try to make it. He’s gonna be late-“

                “I don’t want to hear about it,” Damian was quick to say, voice sharp. He crossed his arms as he stared at the paintings, expression schooled. “He won’t be here. That’s fine.”

                Jason frowned down at Damian. “Hey,” he murmured as he nudged the younger man. “This looks great. I might have to get somethin’ from you.”

                He smirked when he saw Damian’s expression brighten the slightest bit. The younger man stared at him from the corner of his eye. “Like what?”

                Jason shrugged. “Tattoo, maybe. I’ve been wanting one. We can talk about it when we’re done here, if you’re interested.”

                Damian nodded once, and then turned from his drawings. “I’m not cheap.”

                Jason chuckled. “I didn’t think you were.”

                The gallery opening went well. Damian sold each of his paintings and managed to make a good amount of money. The four went to dinner afterward and celebrated with a few drinks and a good meal. After they all parted ways, Damian rode with Jason back to the shop. His car was still there, and he refused to go home without it.

                Jason pulled his charger into the garage. He cut the engine, and then turned to smile at Damian. “That was fun, kid.”

                Damian turned to look up at Jason. He stared at the man for a long moment before leaning forward. “Would you be interested in attending another?”

                Jason’s brow rose. “Sure? Why the hell not.” He smirked. “You’re a little less uptight at the gallery.”

                Damian rolled his eyes and reached out to gently punch the man’s arm. He kept his hand flat against Jason’s bicep. The older man’s brows rose as he stared down at Damian. The boy’s lips were parted slightly. Jason stared at them, remembering how soft they were. He exhaled sharply, deciding to lean forward and steal a short, soft kiss.

                Before he could pull away, Damian fisted the front of his shirt and yanked him down into a hard kiss. Damian was aggressive. He nipped at Jason’s lips and pried them apart with his tongue. He traced the man’s teeth before opting to suck Jason’s tongue into his mouth. He kissed like his fucking life depended on it, and Jason found that way hotter than he should have.

                Jason finally took a handful of Damian’s hair and yanked his head back to angle the boy’s head better. He didn’t miss the way Damian moaned softly at the rough treatment, nor did he miss the slide of Damian’s hand up his neck and onto his cheek to roughly hold his jaw.

\---

                It was strange waking up to Damian in his bed the following morning, but it was good. Even after a long, sweaty night, the twenty-two year old smelled great. The scent of cologne and soap lingered on the boy’s body. Jason found himself shifting closer, burying his face in Damian’s hair and taking a deep breath. He exhaled slowly and opened his eyes to see Damian staring up at him.

                “Good morning,” Jason murmured.

                Damian closed his eyes, and then scrubbed a hand down his face. “What time is it?”

                Jason glanced over at the alarm clock. “Almost ten,” he replied. He started to pull away from Damian, but the kid tugged him back into place. “Hungry?”

                Damian shrugged as he tugged the comforter up. “I’m not ready to get up.”

                “I didn’t expect you to be a cuddler,” Jason teased with a smirk.

                Damian glared up at him. “I will stop if you comment on it again.”

                Jason snorted. “Alright, alright.” He wrapped his arms around Damian, pulling the younger man against his chest.

                Damian was silent for a moment. He finally tilted his head back to look at Jason. “Were you serious last night?”

                Jason’s brow rose. “I said a lot of shit to you last night. What are you specifically asking for?”

                Damian flushed, and it was obvious he was thinking about something completely different for a moment. He finally shook his head. “Wanting my design on your body.”

                Jason couldn’t help but chuckle. “Yeah, kid,” he replied. “Turn me into a canvas. You can even put a robin into it.”

                Damian seemed to brighten up at that idea. He sat up, shoving the comforter back and stared down at Jason. He traced his fingers across the man’s chest. He followed the lines of several scars, and then leaned down to kiss the man softly. “I have several ideas,” he damn near purred.

                “Yeah?” Jason slid his hands up Damian’s thighs to rest on the boy’s hips.

                Damian pulled up so he could meet Jason’s gaze. “I could paint on you, until we find something you like,” he suggested with a smirk.

                Jason met the smirk with a smile. “Sounds good, kid.”

                Damian went back to tracing the scars. Jason closed his eyes. He didn’t have to see to know which ones he was touching. He tried not to think about the memories that wanted to resurface. Finally, he reached out and gripped Damian’s hand. He squeezed it, eyes peeling open so he could stare at the other.

                “Please, don’t,” Jason murmured. Damian’s brows knitted together. He nodded, and then slid off the man to press against Jason’s side.

                Jason stared up at the ceiling. He let his fingers gently trace over Damian’s back. “This a one night thing?”

                Damian shrugged. “I don’t think so.” He tilted his head back to look up at Jason. “You’re not completely insufferable.”

                “Sleeping with me won’t lower your rent,” Jason teased, which earned him a fist against his bicep. “However, it will earn you dinner, anywhere you want.”

                Damian snorted at that. He flung an arm over Jason’s chest. “I can agree to that.”

\---

                They planned their date for the following evening, but they finally decided on takeout. They piled themselves on Damian’s couch, each curled on a cushion, knees touching, with their takeout containers in their hands. Jason sat his down and reached for his sweet tea (courtesy of Damian). He took a sip of the sickly sweet concoction. His nose wrinkled, but he downed the drink. It left him feeling thirstier than before, but it was between that and some diet soda.

                Jason put the glass down on the coffee table just as Damian got up. The younger man sat his food on the table. “Let’s talk about your tattoo,” he decided as he walked across the room to his desk. He picked up a sketchpad and a pencil.

                “What about it?” Jason leaned back on the couch as Damian scurried over and plopped back onto his spot. He curled, toes pressed against Jason’s thighs, and let his sketchpad rest on top of his legs. He drummed his pencil against the paper for a moment.

                Damian stared at Jason, eyes dragging down the man’s body. “Where do you want it?” He idly began sketching on the blank page.

                Jason smiled as he let his arm drape over the back of the couch. He leaned against it. “My back, but you can extend it if you want.”

                Damian nodded, eyes focusing on the paper. “I will come up with a few designs,” he told the man. “You can choose between them.” He lifted his gaze to stare at Jason for a moment, and then looked back down at his paper.

                Jason chuckled as he shifted to reach for his food again. He stopped when he felt Damian kick his thigh. “Stay still,” he hissed. “You’ll ruin the drawing.”

                Jason blinked slowly, brow shooting up. “Can I still talk?”

                “That’s a stupid question. Of course you can,” Damian snorted. He pursed his lips for a moment. “Would you be comfortable taking your shirt off?”

                Jason frowned at the request. He remained silent for a long time, but then decided to nod. “Yeah,” he murmured. He leaned forward and tugged his shirt off over his head. He tossed it over the arm of the sofa, and then reclined, showing off hard muscle and scarred flesh.

                Damian’s eyes lingered on Jason’s body. He didn’t miss the way the younger man slowly licked his lips, eyes narrowing in a hungry manner, but he quickly schooled it. He focused his attention on his sketchpad. The strokes of his pencil were quick, and the scratches of pencil on the textured paper filled the silence between them.

                “Why did you choose _cars_?” Damian didn’t pause in his ministrations, but he did lean forward.

                Jason shrugged. “I like fixing broken things, and I can work cheap for people who need it,” he responded honestly. Damian rolled his eyes and Jason couldn’t help but laugh. “What about you, huh? Why did you choose art?”

                Damian did pause at that question. He lifted his eyes to meet Jason’s and stared in silence. There was a slight furrow to his brow and a purse to his lips before he returned his gaze to the paper. He exhaled slowly. “I like creating things. It’s what makes me happy.”

                Jason’s expression softened as he stared at Damian. “You look happy,” he commented before realizing how stupid he sounded. He shook his head. “Happier than you did when you first showed up here.”

                His lips stretched into a grin when he saw Damian’s small smile. The younger boy shook his head. “Tt,” he spat, hand gliding down the length of the paper. “What was your childhood like?”

                Jason averted his gaze at the question. He closed his eyes, frowning. “Why are you so curious?”

                “You watch the street at dusk every day to make sure the kids across the road make it home safely,” Damian explained. “You look like you’ve been there before.”

                “I grew up in crime alley. I like to make sure the kids here don’t get hassled like I did.” Jason didn’t want to give the specific details. He didn’t want to talk about his mom or his dad. He didn’t want to think about his juvenile record, the thefts, the drugs, or, how at one point he was forced to do some things he would never be proud of. All that mattered was that he got clean and he got out. “Rosaline’s the woman that lives across the street. She’s not home when those kids get home, and I promised I’d look out for them when I could.”

                He snorted, eyes peeling open. “We’re a pretty close neighborhood. We help each other out.”

                Damian glanced up at Jason. His brows furrowed for a moment, but he nodded. “What about your family?”

                Jason exhaled sharply. “I have none. Mom and dad have been gone a long time.” He paused, ready for this conversation to no longer be about him. “What about you? What’s your story?”

                “Don’t you read the magazines?”

                Jason smiled at the kid. “I don’t, actually. I’m interested in _your_ story, anyways.”

                Damian shrugged, hand moving at much slower pace this time. His eyes seemed to gloss over for a moment. “My parents were never married. I was sent to live with my father when I was eight.” He shrugged. “There’s nothing much to say.”

                “You were short about your dad last night,” Jason pointed out. “I’m sure there is something to say.” Damian’s eyes narrowed, and Jason instantly regretted what he said. He cleared his throat. “You know what? Forget about it. I shouldn’t pry.”

                The kid exhaled sharply. He shook his head. “No, it’s fine,” he murmured. He stopped his hand for a moment so he could look up and stare at Jason again. He looked the man’s chest over, memorizing each muscle, mapping each scar marring his skin. He bit his lip for a moment, and then turned his gaze back down to the paper. “I was a lot more difficult when I was younger and he had no idea how the hell to raise a child.”

                Damian went quiet as he slashed at his paper with the pencil. When he was finished, he looked back up at Jason, eyes resting on the man’s legs. He examined them for a moment, and then returned to his sketch. “He’s _trying_ , but he’s…” He pursed his lips. “Dick goes to every one of my galleries. Father hasn’t even been to _one_.”

                Jason frowned. “Fuck him, then,” he grumbled. “He doesn’t know what he’s missing.” He smiled at Damian when the boy met his gaze.

                Damian managed to return the smile. He sat his sketchpad and pencil down before reaching out with hands blackened by lead. He cupped Jason’s cheeks, pressing a gentle kiss to the man’s mouth. He lingered for a moment, stroking his thumbs over Jason’s cheekbones, and then pulled a breath away. “I’m surprised that you’re such a sap.”

                Jason snorted as he nudged the boy. “I thought I wasn’t supposed to move.”

                Damian rolled his eyes. “Shut up and kiss me.”

\---

                It took a week for Damian to come up with a few designs. They were all beautiful with a lot of color and different elements to them. One was to stretch the length of his back, the other covered his collarbone, and the third started on the front of his hip and curled up his back. Jason preferred that one. It used a lot of red in the design and had a bird motif that he found himself drawn to.

                An open birdcage would be on his hip. Robins escaping the cage, flying around his side became the tail of a phoenix. The phoenix had a myriad of colors, bright oranges and reds and yellows mixed with blues and purples that just popped. Its wings were extended, feathers brushing over one hip and extending up to the opposite shoulder. It was intricate, and although it would be expensive to do, it was something he wanted.

                He wasn’t a fan of how long it would take to get done, but he was more than willing to put time into the piece. He was looking at a dozen long sessions, but it was going to be worth it.

                “Are you sure this person will not taint my work?” Damian glanced up at Jason as they sat in the waiting area of the tattoo parlor. It was a small place, with only a handful of chairs in one corner facing a large desk, and two rooms behind the desk.

                Jason snorted as he nodded. “Yeah. Harper’s one of the best,” he promised. He decided not to add that his friend was giving him a discount, because honestly that had nothing to do with why he chose the redhead. Roy _was_ one of the best, and he trusted the guy.

                Damian nodded as he hesitantly leaned against Jason. “Are you nervous?”

                Jason blinked at the question. “Yeah, but not for the reason you think.” He reached over, lacing their fingers together. Damian averted his gaze, finding something interesting to look at on the door as he allowed the man to hold his hand.

                “You’re afraid of needles, not commitment, then.” Damian smirked, stealing a glance.

                Jason squeezed Damian’s hand as he slouched over in his chair. “I don’t have a good history with them.” He frowned and was thankful when Damian didn’t try to pry. Instead, the younger man let his foot hook around Jason’s, tangling their legs together.

                Jason closed his eyes for a moment, letting his head hang. He didn’t want to think about the needles or why they made him uncomfortable. He was grateful to have Damian there with him, to keep his mind in the present. He was there, clean and with his shop, and he wasn’t alone. He had Damian, with their fingers interlocked and their legs tangled, and the younger man was turning out to be an excellent addition.

                He also had Kory, Dick, and Roy. He had long nights with Dick and Kory knocking back drinks and watching television, and then there was Roy, who he had spent a week with while the guy went through withdrawal, making sure he made it. Unlike before, when his mom and dad died, he had people in his life he could rely on.

                He opened his eyes and lifted Damian’s hand. He pressed his lips to the back of it. “Thanks for coming.”

                Damian’s grip loosened when Roy poked his head out of the back room. The redhead grinned at them, waving for them to come to the back. “Ready?”


End file.
